


once upon a dream

by llien



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Fairy Tale Retellings, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meet-cute but in the woods and Sora is barefoot, Romance, This is shamelessly indulgent but soriku ft fairytales is cute and I am weak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 15:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16813300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llien/pseuds/llien
Summary: It’s not that I hate him,Riku thought, eyes lost on the river he was following.I’ve just never met him.“I don’t want to marry him,” Riku said aloud. “So what if our fathers made a promise? That has nothing to do withme.”Or, the one where two princes meet in a clearing, oblivious to the other's true identity.





	once upon a dream

**Author's Note:**

> We watched Sleeping Beauty together and of course we ended up making the most ridiculously indulgent au for it. So, I hope you enjoy!

Once upon time, there was a lovely and quaint cottage tucked away in a glen. A lively forest grew around it, as if in a protective embrace, and inside the cottage lived a tiny family.

On the morning of his 16th birthday, Sora woke up to excited hushed chatter.

The sun poured in from the open windows, carrying the scent of spring and juniper bushes, and the warm rays fell just short of his face, lulling Sora into the perfectly agreeable idea that sleeping in on one's birthday was the thing to do. He burrowed in, taking in scattered sun rays and birdsong outside their cabin with sleepy contentment.

Unfortunately, Ventus had other ideas.

Sora heard his approach up the narrow staircase, feet tromping up the steps two at a time as his hands trailed the walls on either side like he tended to. Sora knew Ven would kick his door open with a booted foot, abusing the poor floorboards as he'd bound across them to land on top Sora with gleeful evil intent.

The moment the door was kicked open and Ven hit the floor, Sora acted.

Jumping from bed, he tossed his blanket over Ven and ran past him, Ven's surprised shout morphing into mock-anger while he wrestled to get the large quilt off of him. Sora took an end and ran a circle, wrapping it around his thighs.

"So- _ra!"_ Ven whined, hands shoving against the fabric. "You were supposed to be asleep!"

"Not with all that racket you were making downstairs!" Sora sang-song, holding the ends of the blanket so Ven couldn't pull it off.

He immediately stopped struggling, going nervously still. "You heard us?"

Piqued, Sora's grasp on the fabric slackened. "Not really," Sora amended, too wide-eyed to attempt subterfuge.

Ven, however, was just sly enough to take advantage. He ripped the blanket free of himself and chased Sora. They ran downstairs laughing and yelling, nearly bruising shoulders on the narrow stairwell.

"Hey!" Aqua said, sitting cross-legged in a straight backed chair by the kitchen table, hands steady as she sewed a mass of fabric. "You two know you shouldn't run down the stairs! You're going to break your nose."

Sora gave her a peck on the cheek as he darted pass, Ven dipping in as well as they rounded the table. They gave her a chorus of _ye-es!_ before squaring off across the table built like a bull.

Before the stove, Terra's face pinched. "Aqua, can't you phrase it a little more, you know...?"

Aqua stabbed her needle into the fabric with vicious intent. "You know neither of them ever learn until it's the hard way." Both Sora and Ven sported a number of interested scars and stories to match, varying from impressive trips off the roof to claims that the ravine wasn't _that wide_ that they couldn't jump across it. Aqua, who'd started her admonishments off sweetly, had long since learned they were hell bent on suffering a broken bone to learn a lesson.

Ven's palms smacked into the hardwood table and obscured Terra's response, body bent as if prepared to either throw himself across the table or somehow haul Sora over. "Today's the day you meet your maker," Ven promised, glaring at Sora.

Sora laughed, grabbing a chair just in case Ven made good on his attempt. "You can't touch me! Today's my _birthday."_

Ven clicked his tongue, drawing back and crossing his arms. “You got lucky,” he sniffed.

Sora preened and hawed, crossing his arms behind his back.

“Yes, yes,” Aqua said, cutting off whatever new argument might sprout from Sora’s confident taunting. “Come here, Sora.”

With a stuck out tongue at Ven, Sora trotted over to Aqua, who framed his face with her hands.

They were well worn hands, calluses rough on his cheeks and nails always kept trim. With those hands, Aqua sewed, melded, fixed, and handled any number of small details. Terra, who had the shoulders of a lumberjack, while a gentle giant could not be trusted to actually thread a needle. He was however, more patient and eager to cook.

Aqua, with her half-shorn skirt and bodice and tights clad legs — _because who can thatch a roof in a skirt?—_ still stood several inches taller than Sora as she unfolded out of her chair with the grace of an acrobat.

“Oh, Sora you’ve grown so much,” Aqua said, light blue eyes framed by the gentle slope of her brows. “Time really flies, doesn’t it?” She traced the curve of his cheek then ruffled his hair, and Sora ducked away, stuttering on embarrassed laughter.

Terra hummed, soft and almost dream-like, caught in reminiscing. “You were so small... Ven was afraid I’d drop you and wouldn’t let me hold you for a month!” He laughed.

“You _did_ drop him,” Ven pointed out.

Terra’s nerves translated into cookware clattering together as he tried to serve breakfast and save face simultaneously. “Sora doesn’t ever stay still!” He protested, which was true.

“You _dropped_ me?” Sora asked, aghast.

Aqua waved her hand, moving to the table to help set it as Ven hauled her sewing materials off the chair to tuck into a corner. “You only got a teeny scar from it, and I’m pretty sure even that’s gone by now.”

Ven snickered. “You were literally dropped on the head.”

“Terra!” Sora cried.

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Terra cried back.

“You were three,” Aqua said dismissively, busy arranging the plates at their normal seats. “It wasn’t life threatening. Now go change your clothes and wash your face, something Ven was _supposed_ to tell you to do.”

Ven grasped the back of the chair Aqua had been using, holding it to his chest to bring back to the head of their monolithic-like table. “He’s 16, he should remember to wash his face on his own.”

Sora, sensing little sympathy for his poor three-year-old scarred self, turned on his foot to get ready.

It was his birthday, but while they were neither poor they also were not wealthy, so a change of clothes for one special day didn’t exist. He tugged on a well-worn shirt that was a too-big hand me down from Ven, slipped on the vest Aqua had tailored for him that tied snug at the front with a length of velvet, and pulled on pants, remaining barefoot as he’d grown out his last pair of shoes and they’d yet to go into town to buy him a new pair. The necklace he always wore stayed tucked under his shirt, for fear of somehow losing it.

He bounded back downstairs and this time they all greeted him with a chorus of _happy birthday!_ He was passed from embrace to embrace, Aqua kissed him on his forehead, Terra squeezing too tight in a bear hug, and Ven pressing their cheeks together briefly.

The broke fast, Ven and Sora bickering fondly as Aqua and Terra discussed their daily needs and wants, food stores and the like that Sora regulated to background noise.

His world was just Terra, Aqua, Ven, and the forest with all its gentle creatures. Sometimes, Sora longed to leave their tiny cottage, to join one of his guardians as they left on their weekly trip to the market, but they always forbade it.

 _Too dangerous_ and _unneeded_ and _too far,_ or any number of excuses Sora had accepted as face value growing up, but was now becoming curious about.

Yet, he loved them too much to ask. Aqua, who was gentle in her demeanor and always ready to lend an ear. Terra, who wanted nothing more than their happiness and did all he could to make it come true. And Ven, who was like a brother, playful and getting into scrapes together all the time.

Sora was content on their little island, and still had not thought to ask _why?_

After breakfast was cleared away, and just as Sora was beginning to wonder how he’d spend his day, Terra called to him. “Sora, could you pick some more berries?”

“Berries?” Sora repeated, brow furrowing. “But I just picked some yesterday!” In fact, the basket full of them was by the stove, ready for a pie.

Terra’s eyes went slightly wide and he laughed nervously. “I, uh, uhm, I need… more! Yes. More berries. For a pie! Two pies!”

“Two pies…” Sora said slowly, holding Terra’s gaze.

“Ven’s going into town tomorrow and he’s taking one,” Aqua intervened smoothly, resuming her sewing as she sat cross-legged. “So, could you bring some more?”

Sora cocked his head, brow arching as he regarded them, but then he smiled. “Alright!” He gathered the shawl Aqua insisted he wear well into spring, since it was still chilly and his uncovered head might somehow give him cold, though more often than not he let it drag from his shoulders once he was out of sight, and found another basket. “Then, I’ll be back later!”

“Be safe!” Terra called.

“Don’t talk to strangers!” Ven warned.

Sora laughed and turned to walk backwards, crossing his arms with the basket hooked on his wrist. “I won’t!” He promised.

He waved until he reached the small brook Aqua had built a tiny bridge over, balancing on one edge to cross before finally reaching the forest proper. With a light laugh, Sora found the well-worn path and, with the simple joy he found in all things, pretended to cross it like a tight-rope, already lost to daydreams.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a king and queen. Their kingdom was filled with light and laughter, but many years had passed without an heir. They despaired, longing for the child that would come along to inherit the crown, with eyes full of laughter and a heart of gold.

Then, one day a prince was born, and the entire kingdom rejoiced!

They feasted and celebrated, with parades in his name and dances in his honor, and the kingdom to the north came to see him, for the two kings were good friends and had long since wished to join their lands together. The king from the north brought his own son, a young prince with a proud set to his shoulders and eyes too intelligent.

In a grand celebration, the king invited all the realm. The hall was filled to the brim with guests, feasts, string quartets and lit chandeliers, and at the head sat the king and queen with their son ensconced in a cradle for guests to come and see him.

The young prince peered at the cradle, and with a softening of his heart, he gave him a necklace, dangling it and smiling as tiny hands grasped the crown emblem.

Their invitation was answered by all, and they were graced by the three Masters of Light, whose presence was heralded by trumpets and applause.

Aqua, Ventus, and Terra arrived in sunbeams of light coalescing into armor and dignity. Despite their youth, they had wisdom and kindness to spare, and one by one they approached the tiny prince.

Ventus, who’d suffered hardship at the banal cruelty of others, clasped his hands together over his heart and bowed his head. “To the little prince,” Ventus spoke, the gathering in the castle’s hall falling silent in awe, “I give the gift of heart.”

In his hands, love and kindness and empathy twinkled into being like stars, and he released it over the young prince, where it cascaded in stardust and and glimpses of rays of light. The prince cooed and laughed.

Aqua approached next. She, who’d worked tirelessly to harness the very power that had exalted her, saw what a kingdom founded on love would need. “To the little prince,” Aqua spoke, “I give the gift of light.”

She cupped her hands as if to carry water and light sprung into liquid being like golden ichor, where sincerity, passion, and warmth glimmered on its surface. She released it and it fell in sunbeams over the prince, who reached with his hands for the dissipated light.

Terra stepped forward, lips parted to speak, but before he could an ill omen swept through the hall, throwing the entrance doors wide with a thunderous clang.

The guests drew back as one with a gasp, as the king from the north sheltered his startled son, and the Masters of Light stood protectively in front of the little prince.

The king surged forward. “Who goes there?” He demanded.

They had invited all the realm, except one.

Maleficent was an evil being who wore darkness like a cloak. She carried herself regally and in her shoulder was a crow that did her bidding, eyes too cunning for a mere bird’s. She glided forward as the guests parted for her, tilting her head in mockery of a bow.

“My!” Maleficent said. “I’m merely here to see the little prince.”

Ventus stepped forward, bristling. “You weren’t invited!” He said, voice carrying over the stunned silence to echo.

“Not invited?” Maleficent repeated, eyes wide in feigned shock. “Oh, how awkward.” She raised a hand to laugh, turning to her pet. “I had hoped it was merely due to some oversight. _Well,_ in that event, then I must be on my way.”

The queen, who had strayed towards her son in fear, hesitated. “And you’re not offended, your excellency?”

“Why no, your majesty,” Maleficent said, wearing a smile. “And to show I bear no ill will, I, too, shall bestow a gift on the child.”

“No!” Ventus cried, covering the infant entirely from view.

But Maleficent ignored him. With a voice like the depths of darkness and her hands spread wide, Maleficent swore, “Listen well, all of you! The prince shall indeed grow with heart and light, beloved by all who know him. But, before the sun sets on his sixteenth birthday, he shall lose his heart to darkness and die!”

The queen cried out and the guests all exclaimed in horror. The king commanded his soldiers to seize the wicked being, but with laughter and seeking darkness, Maleficent disappeared into smoke and shadows.

Terra, who’d yet to bestow his gift, offered the crying queen solace. “Please, don’t despair. I may be able to help, still.”

With a teary nod, the queen stepped away from her son as Terra came close.

With closed eyes, Terra thought on his own struggles, and on Maleficent’s words, and he held a fist over his heart.

“To the little prince,” Terra spoke, the power in his words silencing the guests, “I give the gift of the strength of will. May you find the strength to overcome darkness, and may true love guide your way. Not in death but just in sleep the fateful prophecy you'll keep.”

In his heart, determination, strength, and hope flourished, taking heed to his own experience and reaching for the young prince. Terra offered his hand to the prince, fingers falling open, and from his palm was warmth like no other. The prince, understanding the fear was gone, accepted the gift with a heart of light.

The guests believed the threat had been belied and celebrations begun anew, but with heavy hearts, the three Masters of Light knew that it was far from over.

* * *

“They’re so silly,” Sora said to the bird on his shoulder. “I know they’re hiding something from me. Do you think it’s a birthday surprise?”

The bird conferred in chirps and song, and Sora hummed. “I guess it wouldn’t be anything too big. Our home is way too small to hide anything like that!”

The fox at his feet wound between his legs and bounded forward, and the other woodland creatures who’d gathered around him each gave their own two cents on the matter.

Sora regarded this all very seriously. “It’d be too much to hope for a trip into town, wouldn’t it? Besides, it’s already too late to go.” The journey required an entire day to make, starting from early in the morning only to come back late at night.

The bubbling brook by their cottage fed into the river Sora was heading towards. He followed its song, hand on his chin and basket hanging from his elbow. “Maybe it’s a party?”

An owl hooted.

“I don’t know!” Sora said. “Not like we have any neighbors to invite.”

Two birds flew before him in a loop, and Sora scowled. “I’m awful at dancing, anyways. I’d just embarrass myself.”

As one, all the creatures of the woods gave Sora a beseeching look. He slowly shook his head. “Uh-uh, no way, I’m not showing you!”

Of course, he gave in. Under dappled sunlight and with bare feet, Sora laughed as he spun and danced with no grace but all charm, unaware of the eyes of a stranger.

* * *

Riku tromped through the woods. He’d been upset at first, but after spending time away from the carriages and nobility he’d lost the edge, and now meandered around in contentment.

Following behind him, with reins held in Riku’s hand, was his horse, Mickey, who occasionally moved forward to nudge Riku’s shoulder.

 _It’s not that I hate him,_ Riku thought, eyes lost on the river he was following. _I’ve just never met him._

So fine, he’d met the young prince ages ago, but they’d been _kids._ Riku had no idea who or what the prince had grown into, let alone if they’d get along or how they’d manage to fall in love.

He didn’t even know the prince’s name. He had the feeling it’d been said once before, but fear of Maleficent had kept the name caged within others, and Riku had been too young to properly remember it.

“I don’t want to marry him,” Riku said aloud, a sentiment he’d voice to his father that had resulted in a spectacular argument, which now found Riku here in the forest to soothe his wounds. “So what if our fathers made a promise? That has nothing to do with _me.”_

Mickey knickered.

“What if he’s an awful person? What if he thinks he’s better than others because of how he was born?” Riku had once thought that way. It’d been a poisonous sentiment fed into him and fostered over the years, until he’d managed to overcome it. He dreaded having to face that all over again.

Just as Riku was working himself into another bout of frustration, he heard it.

Laughter.

It was so bright and unbridled it brought Riku up short, both with its authenticity and endearing imperfection. It was an infectious kind of laugh, and the more Riku heard it, the more he felt his own darkness seep away.

He followed the sound, curious. The forest had been entirely empty, devoid of anything but woodland creatures, which in retrospect was odd, seeing as how it was on the outskirts of the King’s Town and should therefore have some variety of huntsman or workers gathering herbs.

Riku continued down the river, where the laughter seemed to originate. For a moment, he wondered if maybe a creature of legend would appear.

Around the bend, through brush and berries, Riku saw him.

In a natural clearing bordered by the brilliant red berry bushes was a boy close to Riku’s age, dancing with a shawl held between his hands as if in closed position. His wayward brown hair shifted with every movement, and he looked so odd, so different, it almost as if he really was some fairy tale myth.

“And in my dream,” the boy said to the gathering of woodland creatures, laughter between his words and sunlight in his eyes. “There’s someone there. I never remember his face, which figures, but he likes to laugh and we do all sorts of things. I’ve seen oceans and mountains on the horizon and every night we go exploring somewhere new.”

And off-key, he began to hum, dancing in a poor four-step but making up for it with energy and excitement. He wasn’t aware of eyes or of saving face, and when the shawl fluttered loose he let it, eyes closed in a daydream and throwing his arms wide.

“And sometimes, I think it’ll be normal dream, but then I turn around and he’s there. And I think,” he gave a funny laugh, “is all this forreal?” The boy spun on the edge of one foot wildly and nearly overbalanced, and —without thinking— Riku moved forward to catch him.

“I can never tell when I’m dreaming, it all feels so real,” the boy continued, and sensing his intended movement, Riku stepped back when he did, heart beating wildly in his chest as the boy suddenly became alarmingly close. Riku could smell sweet berry juice and juniper, and his hair tickled his nose. “And then I wake up.”

He gave another four-key hum that didn’t quite hit, and it was so clumsy Riku couldn’t help his sudden laughter.

Like a windstorm, the boy stiffened and whirled around, backing out of Riku’s half-embrace. His eyes, up close, were startling blue, but despite all his earlier mystery, he really looked like nothing more than an ordinary boy.

“Hello again,” Riku quipped, lips tugging into a smile.

The boy’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know you,” he said confidently, a direct hit that actually made Riku stumble in his confidence. “We’ve never met.” He drew away, as if Riku _scared_ him, an idea so wild it stumped him.

“But we have met,” Riku teased. “Once upon a dream.”

The boy glared, cheeks flushed. “Ha. Ha.”

Riku held back laughter, but only because he didn’t want the boy to think it was purely at his expense. “We’ve seen oceans and mountains together, I’m wounded you don’t seem to remember me.”

Instead of growing more flustered though, the boy peered closer, as if finally realizing Riku did, in fact, exist. “Have you seen the ocean?” The boy asked, eyes wide.

Riku blinked. “Yes.”

As if those were the magic words, the boy lost all hesitancy. He crept closer. “What’s it like?”

Riku tried to think of how to describe the ocean to a boy who’d apparently only seen the forest around him. “It’s as big as the sky, and just as angry sometimes.”

“Wow,” he said softly. “And mountains? Have you seen those?”

“Tons! If you go north of here, the kingdom there is bordered by them.”

The boy furrowed his brow.

Sensing he was closing off again, Riku scrambled for something to make him stay— “You’re terrible at dancing.” Riku cursed in his mind. _Was that all I could think of? Really? An insult?_

The boy gaped. “You _saw_ that?”

“Hard not to,” Riku admitted, folding his arms and grasping his elbows.

The boy groaned in mortification, grasping the tails of his shirt to wrinkle. “I _told_ them I was terrible!”

Already, the grin was creeping back on Riku’s face. “It’s not so bad. You can always learn.”

The boy side-eyed him again, with a look Riku was already becoming familiar with. He held his hand out wordlessly, and with just a brief hesitation, the boy stepped forward. It felt as if something thawed, or melted, or bloomed, or maybe it was like an afternoon nap, when one had no worries or fears.

It was warmth Riku had never recognized, and he held onto the boy’s hand like it might disappear.

Bringing him into proper closed position, holding the boy’s hand at shoulder level and cupping his waist, he murmured, “I’m Riku.”

Shamelessly meeting his eyes, the boy smiled, a flash of white teeth and rosy cheeks. “I’m Sora.”

“Sora,” Riku said, and he realized too late, too slow, that he’d said it with too much— too much— so—

Sora colored, and Riku found he didn’t mind, that he’d been too warm or forward or that he’d discovered that perhaps love at first might be possible. “Just follow my lead.”

They discovered fairly quickly, however, that it wasn’t lack of knowledge but rather lack of _any_ kind of talent that stunted Sora.

“Wow, you really can’t dance,” Riku blurted, half in awe and half in disbelief. He realized, again, a second too late that he’d been fairly rude, but Sora didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m trying!” Sora protested, drawing out the last syllable. “But my feet just won’t go where they should!”

“They’re your feet!” Riku attempted to spin them.

Sora stumbled into his chest and grumbled, “Not today I guess.”

Riku regarded him thoughtfully, then grinned. Without warning he spun them wild and completely inappropriately for a four-step, startling Sora into laughter. Without rhyme or rhythm, he led Sora into a silly dance that consisted of lots of spinning and circling and back-and-forths, a game that brightened Sora’s expression considerably.

With easy joy and confidence, Sora took over and he spun Riku around, until they felt drunk on clumsy laughter.

All the spinning made Riku dizzy, but he refused to move away for fear of breaking whatever spell was on them. Unfortunately, Sora stumbled and nearly fell, and simultaneously they collapsed on the grass, cheeks aching with grins. Riku couldn’t even remember the last time he’d laughed so much, or even for so long.

He thought all their moving would’ve scared the animals away, but they lingered close, chattering and minding their own business in the same space as them. Riku wondered if the lack of human activity left them less alert or nervous.

With a loud contented sigh, Sora flopped onto his back. Riku regarded him for a moment, before following suit.

He’d never lain on the floor of a forest before. The pieces of sky between the breaks of foliage was brilliant blue and dotted with clouds, and the wind on his cheeks tugged at his hair and clothes. It was nice. It was more than nice. It made Riku feel more comfortable than he had in a long time.

“This is the best present I could’ve asked for,” Sora said to the sky.

Riku blinked. Again. Shot forward to sit up and loom over Sora. “It’s your _birthday?”_

Sora nearly looked at him cross-eyed, Riku was so close. “Yeah! My family asked me to pick berries because I… think… they….” he trailed off, eyes growing wide. _“I forgot!”_

He jumped like someone had lit a match under his feet, patting the ground around him in a panicked manner before spotting a basket of berries resting beside a fallen log. He scrambled up to his feet and swiped the basket and shawl up, and Riku thought if he hadn’t spoken up then, Sora really would’ve disappeared like a dream come morning.

“Wait! Wait, where are you going?”

“Home!” Sora said, hurrying off with Riku scampering after him, though he didn’t pursue too far, hesitant.

“Home? Will I see you again?”

“No!” Sora said, stopped short, _“Yes!_ I don’t know! Uhm— uh— come by later!”

“Where?” Riku shouted, as Sora grew further.

“To the cottage! I’ll be waiting! Tonight!”

Riku cupped his hands around his mouth. “It’s a promise!”

His words rang through the forest, and he saw a final glimpse of Sora’s cheery grin before he disappeared. Riku stayed staring for a long moment, until the entire afternoon replayed in his head, and he covered his red face with his hands.

 _Sora, Sora, Sora,_ his mind raced, heart doing double-time.

Riku ran back to his horse, giddy and excited. “Tonight!” Riku said to himself, as if a reminder, or maybe confirming it. “Tonight, I’ll see him again.”

With a light heart and bright eyes, Riku spurred his horse back along the river, to see his father and proclaim his intent in seeing someone new.

**Author's Note:**

> Artwork by Pea [here!](https://twitter.com/Peatootin/status/1069112238433337344)
> 
> You all know how Sleeping Beauty goes. There was going to be a bit more expanded on this, where Maleficent ingratiates herself into Riku's life and manipulates him into darkness, and how he overcomes that with Sora's help, only to save him as Sora falls into dreams of darkness. He finally defeats Maleficent and awakens Sora, and together with hearts of light having known darkness, they prospered. 
> 
> But that was way too much to write for an indulgent au started at 1 in the morning, so enjoy this summary instead.


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